Movement Poem by Meghan

Garbage dancing in the streets
waves of wind over fields of wheat
green, blue and pink fluorescing across the heavens
wooden giants, gliding, wind driven
with the slightest breeze the flame flickers
wild and violent
thrashing like the blue ocean
once a sheet of glass, now broken
angry and roaring
the pendulum swings
outcries the voice and rings
our glasses fumble and clash
toasting another movement passed
physics and kinetics
not really sure what it is
we study the origins
theories about the energy within
what it does, where it goes, how it gets there?
what creates the moving air
that blows the garbage and the leaves
which swirls the dust in the streets
why the sun falls in the west and rises in the east
the energy, maybe it's gravity
it's all completely beyond me
and I say with a guarded ignorance
that all the details and information is irrelevant
as long as my sun keeps rising
and the world stays turning
with a strong wind blowing
the movement in this universe forever flowing